Alpha Knight (Wolf Ridge High 2)

I check her drawers.

Slow down.

Not because I find anything there, just because I sprout a chub thinking about her without them. And with them. I yank open the drawers until I find her panties. Some are boring. Practical cotton bikini brief shit. The panties she runs in.

But then there’s the pretty ones.

For Tyler.

Fucking Tyler, who I am going to grind into the goddamn dirt.

That weak human bastard.

She’s got lacy ones. Silken ones. A black G-string that gives me a full-on boner.

And then I find it: her vibrator.

It’s crazy what it does to me.

A shudder of excitement runs through my entire body. I’m harder than marble now, and I can’t seem to turn it off.

There’s nothing particularly fancy about the vibe. It’s your basic, plain phallus with a curved tip to hit the G-spot.

Does she hit it? Does she know how? Or is she like one of those girls who has trouble orgasming and can’t find her magic buttons?

I’ll fucking find them for her.

I’ll show her exactly what this wolf knows about pleasing a human teenager. I gained quite a bit of experience last year screwing an ASU cheerleader’s brains out for three months.

I drop into her desk chair and turn the vibrator off and on. Every time it rumbles to life, my dick lurches against my jeans

Every time it turns off, I will it down.

I would put it on my balls to feel what it’s like, but I’m pretty sure I’d jizz in my pants.

The moon is not even full anymore, and I’m still one stroke from an orgasm. That’s what this human does to me.

I breathe down the rumble in my chest. Tell myself not to think about the boyfriend.

The fucking boyfriend.

How can she have a boyfriend?

That asshole back in Grosse Pointe definitely does not deserve a girl this fine. He just doesn’t. I know he doesn’t.

Girls like this are one in a thousand. Maybe a million. Smart. Athletic. Beautiful. Strong. Fucking devious as hell. What high school student single-handedly starts her own car thieving ring?

It’s insane.

I dive back into her backpack, looking for her phone, wondering why I didn’t think of it sooner.

It’s not there. Does she have it on her? No—impossible. All she was wearing was that thin pair of running shorts. I would’ve seen a phone sticking out of her pocket, if she had one.

So where?

I spy it plugged in by her bedside table and lunge for it. Scroll through her contacts for Tyler.

He’s not fucking there.

What would she call him?

While I have the chance, I download a location tracking app onto her phone and send myself the invite. She might see this and turn it off, but you never know. It could be an easy way to stalk her, if she gives me the slip. Then I scroll through all her contacts, but there are no nicknames. I search by 313, the Grosse Pointe area code. Nada.

There are actually very few contacts at all.

Which makes me even more suspicious. Did she delete contacts? Or is the identity a made up one? Maybe she’s not actually from Grosse Pointe. Maybe her name isn’t Sloane McCormick at all.

Who the fuck is this girl?

Sloane

I plow through dinner with my stomach in knots. I just keep hoping Wolf Ridge Boy isn’t going to make a sound.

I seriously cannot face my aunt with an explanation of why I have a boy in my room.

I know, it probably wouldn’t be the end of the world—but it’s absolutely beyond what I can handle right now.

The real problem will be to keep my ever-observant cousin from noticing. Thank God she spends all her time watching Youtube videos with the headphones glued to her head. If it weren’t for that, she would’ve already heard Bo.

I eat half my mac ‘n cheese—Rikki’s dinner request, obviously—and pick up my plate. “Is it okay if I bring this to my room?”

I don’t know why I’m worried about feeding Bo.

He’s hijacked my personal space in the worst kind of way. And yet I can’t help but think how a big guy like him probably eats three times what I do and how hungry he’s going to be if he hasn’t had dinner.

It’s stupid, really.

Aunt Jen considers. “Only if you promise to bring it back down when you’re done. I’m not cool with dishes hanging out in bedrooms and attracting ants.”

“I promise. I just want to get back to studying. I have a big test.”

Not a complete lie.

“Okay, hon. Get to it, then.”

My aunt is an elementary school teacher and takes education very seriously. She moved into the Cave Hills district specifically so my little cousin could go to the best schools in Arizona. Never mind that by the time Rikki hits middle school next year, she’s already going to get singled out as a have-not. Without the designer clothes and shoes and the parental car-bling, she will not fit in with the Cave Hills kids.